


Sprout

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Category: Samurai 7
Genre: Dealing With Loss, Gen, last person of generation sort-of thing, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: The grains that lead us to this moment.





	

It was a ritual that she had done for many years. Something that her sister had entrusted her to do and something that the village, as time went on, found to be impersonal. The rice was plentiful now, it had been for many years, and Komachi was to bring some to the heroes of the village.

It had been many, many years since their deaths. It had been many, many years before Komachi was the only one left who remembered the fear of machines, machines that stole their rice and the despairing knowledge that it would never end.

It had been many years since Komachi passed on her duties as water priestess, when her own heart had become too burdened. It had become heavier as she got older, remembering how her sister had been patient even when the cruelest samurai ate their rice and refused to help, and their supplies dwindled and they were to fail. She never fully learned the story of the magistrate, but it was all too easy to resent him for starting this, and he had the chance to live when he had never been kind.

The resentment had never completely faded. 

Komachi banished the thought of the magistrate from her head and brought the offerings of rice, filling up the bowls. The swords had become rusted but she was sure to clean them of any foliage.

Komachi settled beside one of the swords and looked up at the night sky.

"It's been a long time, Kiku," she said. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep your family tree safe forever."

The scroll had become too old and the paper disintegrated when Komachi was nearly grown up. She had cried bitterly. She buried the rollers and bits of paper near his grave.

"It's been lonely," she said. "But I asked the village to carry on giving everyone offerings. They understand the cost of peace."

She laid down on the grass, her limbs growing heavy.

"I hope that wherever you all are, Kanbei and Kyuzo aren't fighting too much. I suppose it would get boring to watch after a while."

She closed her eyes. "When I get there, you don't have to be held by my promise of marriage. I know you were humoring me." The memory was like floating in water on a blistering hot day. 

"But when I get there, I hope I'm small enough for you to carry..."

Komachi breathed once more and the era that knew the fear of machines ended.

**Author's Note:**

> Samurai 7 is one of the shows that my friends and I watched in anime club and it's very dear to me. We would make up nicknames for the characters and it was one of the few times we got really got invested in an anime and actually finished it.


End file.
